saturday mornings are for pancakes // a dream x reader fanfiction

CHAPTER 55: PANCAKES

DECEMBER 3

I followed the smell of breakfast all the way to the kitchen; Clay follows closely behind me. Both George and Nick turn around, wearing matching aprons, with big smiles.

"It's technically Saturday Morning," Nick says, "We thought we would have breakfast one last time."

My hand covers my mouth, and my eyes already sting. I turn to Clay first. "Is this why you took the long way?"

He shrugs. "They needed time to cook."

Nick walks over and throws an arms aroundmy shoulder, leading me to sit down. "It's time we gave you breakfast, y/n."

George puts a bowl of fruit and a bowl of chocolate chips in front me. Clay walks over to the fridge to fish out some orange juice. Nick's flipping the pancakes.

I will not cry, I repeat to myself over and over again, I will not cry.

Once the pancakes are places in front of me, they wait in anticipation for me to try them. I take a bit and nod. "They're good."

George and Nick yell out in triumph, high-fiving. "I told you we knew what we were doing," Nick says.

George rolls his eyes before turning to make his own plate. Clay leans on the counter and smiles. "That orange juice I poured was pretty good too, right?"

I put a single finger up to tell him to wait, then I bring the glass to my lips to take a sip. "It's perfect," I say.

His smile grows before he turns to get his own food. The boys settle in around me to eat our breakfast. The last time we ate pancake breakfast this late at night was when the whole house except George got sick.

"We should've done this more often," I say out loud, "you know, the late night breakfast."

"Don't say should've, y/n," Nick points out, "You're not leaving us forever."

Clay smiles. "Yeah, these guys are great and all, but these could never match up to yours."

Nick reaches over and hits him over the head. "Then you can cook them for the next year."

"Um, we can make a schedule." Clay shakes his head, "I don't have the patience for this every Saturday."

"Can you even cook?" I ask Clay, "I've never seen you even pick up a pan."

"Is it a dinner or a breakfast, though?" George asks absentmindedly, "Because none of us have slept for the night, so this would be the last meal before bed, right."

Clay gives him a look. "Are you drunk or something?"

George's brows furrow before he looks offended. "Sorry for trying to be philosophical."

"What?" Clay and I say at the same time.

"Speaking of pans," Nick says, also in his own little world. He walks behind the counter and struggles to pick something up. Clay tries to help, but he's waved off. "I can do it."

Nick places a large, wrapped box in front of me. "What is this?" I ask.

"It's a going away present mixed with a house warming present." Clay smiles proudly.

"Open it," George says excitedly.

I smiling, sliding my finger through the wrapping paper. It takes a couple tries before the contents of the box are revealed.

My finger hits cold metal, and I pull out some pots and pans. I glance up at the boys; my eyes once again filling up. "You guys..."

The pans are a mixed-matched variation of red, green and blue. It's not the most aesthetically pleasing mix, but it makes my heart warm.

"You need to be able to make pancakes from New York," Nick says.

I smile and look at Nick, assuming this was him. "This is so thoughtful."

"It was actually Clay's idea," he admits.

My heart stops and I shift to face Clay. He's looking at his shoes, not making eye contact. My hand reaches out and touches his arm as a gesture to say thank you.

I turn to them all. "Thank you guys; I'm going to miss you so much."

Theres a sniffle amongst them, and I scan all their faces until I find George's. Nick must see it at the same time because he asks, "George, are you crying?"

"What?" He wipes his eye; his voice is thick. "No, there's just a lot of air in here, and it's gotten.. It's gotten into my eyes."

I slide a finger across my cheek to wipe a tear of my own. My voice is soft yet thick when I speak. "George, you're crying."

"Well-" he starts to be dramatic- "I just started to like you, and you're leaving now."

I roll my eyes; my tears aren't threatening to spill over anymore. I know George isn't big on physical touch, but I make my way over and wrap my arms around him.

I can feel the weight of two more join our hug a few seconds later, and now I really am crying.

I'm just going to miss these boys so much.

AUTHOR'S NOTE:

how are we feeling on the whole NY thing?

have an amazing day :)